


Don't You Remember

by jlillymoon



Category: MorMor - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 23:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3507080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlillymoon/pseuds/jlillymoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for what was supposed to be an Adele Album Challenge that I never heard another word about....<br/>Based on the song "Don't You Remember" from 21 by Adele, this is a reunion fic, post TRF ~ All mormor. </p><p>How did Sebby handle Jim's death and return?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't You Remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Little_Red_Hot_Riding_Hood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Red_Hot_Riding_Hood/gifts).



> Based on the song "Don't You Remember" by Adele... heard here. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VYM0oL6RPvg)
> 
> To my dearest Kitten... Please... take this humble offering and.... I hope you love it as much as I do you.... xxoo Tiger

Sebastian walked into the pub and motioned for a pint of ale before sitting down in the empty booth near the back. Old habits die hard, he mused to himself as he watched the front door and noted the back exit. The young barmaid put down his pint and smiled at him through her long lashes. Sebastian gave her a weak smile in return and she she sighed as she left, noting the ring on his left hand.

“All the good ones are taken or gay.” she mumbled as she walked away. Sebastian sniggered at her. He was both.

Sebastian sipped his lager and pulled out his journal and a pen. He set them both side by side on the sticky table top and stared at them. Once, he had felt foolish carrying them around with him, but the worn leather cover and the cool metal of the pen made him feel very grounded for the first time in three years.

Three years. That’s how long he had been single again. It wasn’t by his choice and for all intensive purposes, he was a widower. He sipped at his cold beer again and tuned into the noises around him. The pub wasn’t too crowded, but there were enough people to have a constant stream of conversation. He listened to a couple talk about dinner plans for later that evening, before turning his attention to a group of blokes talking about the recent football match. There was the tinny sound of music hidden in the background and Sebastian tried to tune into what the song was.

He scanned the room and he saw there was a group of girls in their twenties animatedly looking at the songs on the juke box. He noted that they selected three different songs before feeling satisfied and heading back to their table. He opened his book and picked up the pen.

Write out your feelings, he thought to himself. It had been working for a while now. Writing down all the mixed emotions in his head was helping to allow him to focus and work. That was all he had left. The work. The legacy he was trying to keep afloat. The book became the repository for all the emotions that had been swirling in his head and kept him from drowning his sorrow in the bottle or with a needle.

The journal wasn’t foolproof. Not by any means. There had been rough days and nights. More than there should have been, but there was no way any sane or even slightly mad person could have been expected to survive the death of their partner without some deep anguish. Despite that Sebastian was determined to find a balance to keep moving forward. Planting one foot in front of another.

The din of conversation had reached a lull and the pub was seemingly silent for a moment. It was one of those magical moments that happened once in a great while. The song that was currently playing, its rough hard chords ended and a softer, more melodic phrase took its place. Sebastian stiffened and his pen stopped its scratching on the paper. He knew this song. It was one of the songs he had been avoiding, if at all possible, since Jim had died. His hands began to shake and he noticed that the shaking had covered the current page he had been writing on with looping words.

“When will I see you again? You left with no goodbye, not a single word was said. No final kiss to seal any sins, I had no idea of the state we were in.” His eyes welled up with tears and he bit the inside of his cheek as he reread the words.

“Fuck.” he growled as he grabbed up his journal and pen as he fled the pub. He made it to the corner before he collapsed to the pavement. His knees hit the ground and a jolt was sent up his spine. His arms dropped their parcels and he felt the cold, rough ground under his hands. His ribs burned as he tried to take in enough oxygen to survive.

Sebastian only remembered the rough hands pulling him upright and shoving him into a car when his mind came around again. His mouth was dry and thick with the taste of sleep, but not natural sleep. Drug induced sleep. Again.

He put his arm over his eyes and felt the rough, damaged skin of his hands pull as he moved. He tried to remember what had happened for his staff to pick him up and drug him. It was a protocol that he had in place for the darkest of his days. It became necessary after the second intentional overdose and a near fatal car accident. He no longer drove himself anywhere. He hired someone to do that for him. He drank only in moderation. He took the medication that the doctor gave him. He was writing in his book. He no longer saw Jim out of the corner of his eye or in the shadows.  But something must have happened.

Sebastian rolled over and searched blindly for his book. His book would tell him what set him off but there was nothing under his hand. He opened his eyes and winced at the pain that lanced through his head as he let the light in. There was no book on his bedside table.

He threw off the duvet and clambered out his bed. His bare feet were sure across the floor as he searched his room. It had to be there. It had to be. The noise of his rampage brought his aide de camp into the room and he stood in the doorway. Parade rest.

“Boss?” he said, his voice deep and just loud enough to catch Sebastian’s attention. He stopped and turned towards the door.

“Lloyd. My book. The black leather bound one. With the silver button on it. Where is it? Where did they put it when I came in last night?” Sebastian bellowed at his assistant. The man just stood there and didn’t flinch.

“Didn’t see it. But you were worse than usual last night boss. Is there something more we should talk about?” Lloyd replied.

“No. Find it. Go back. Look. Access CCTV. Find that book!” Sebastian yelled. He slammed the door in his aide’s face and sank to the ground. Something had happened and now his journal was missing. Sebastian’s hand reached his face and felt the dampness of tears.

Sebastian was more composed when Lloyd came to the darkened lounge hours later. He was sipping a whiskey, a dangerous thing for him to do. Beer and wine were safer. He could control his emotions on them, but the harder stuff, he became volatile. Dangerous. Much like his own former boss. Lloyd cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry boss. We looked. We scanned the CCTV. It’s gone. It was there on the ground and then not. Someone tampered with the footage. We’ve spent hours trying to repair the damage. But it’s gone.” Sebastian nodded and drained his glass.

“Thank you.” was all Sebastian said. Those were the last words that Lloyd heard before Sebastian’s Sig was leveled at his head and a single suppressed shot was taken, killing the man instantly.

 

A shadow in a nearby alleyway watched as Sebastian was shoved roughly into the back of a car. The shadow frowned as the car drove away. What had happened to the brilliant sniper? His joy, his enthusiasm was gone. He looked as if he was nothing more than a ghost. The shadow noticed something on the ground. Something Sebastian had been carrying, but dropped. Looking carefully around he pulled out his mobile and hit a couple of keys. Counting to ten, he darted out into the light to investigate further. It was a black leather bound journal. His own. It was no longer pristine, well creased and care worn. It had been used, it’s pages rumpled with movement and marked with ink. The shadow quickly thumbed through it, realizing that he needed to look at it deeper and in a more private place. Being out in the open was dangerous and he shivered as he returned to the shadows, stuffing the book into the deep pocket of his coat before disappearing into the night.

Jim propped himself up on the bed, crossing his legs at the ankle. He placed the black book in his lap and gently caressed its cover. It had been a gift from Sebastian years ago. Someplace for Jim to write down everything he felt and thought in a book. Something old school and slightly antiquated. Jim loved it, but had never gotten around to using it. It was soft and supple leather, dyed black as coal or as Sebastian had joked as his soul. It had two fine straps to tie it closed around a handmade silver button.  Hand forged into the button was a complex knot. A celtic knot that spoke of love and Jim ran his finger across the lines. It was curious that Sebastian decided to use this book for his own.

Jim took a drink from the glass at his side and turned to open the first page.

The first page was blank, excepting for a large black dot near the start of the page. As if someone had placed a pen on the surface to begin to write and never lifted the pen again. The ink stained the page and several underneath it. Jim flipped to where there were words for the first time.

“Sixty two days.” Sebastian’s loopy handwriting flowed. “Sixty two days he’s been. Gone.” That was all there was to the entry. The next entry was a bit more cohesive.

“It’s been 100 days. Exactly 100 days. Mia had placed this journal on my coffee table again. Along with a nicely printed article from a website about helping people overcome their grief.  It said to write out your feelings. So. It’s stupid. But I’ll give it a try. Might as well do something since I can’t sleep.”

Jim flipped page after page, reading all the dark thoughts that Sebastian placed on the paper, trusting that it would keep his secrets. He stilled his breathing at several entries, not realizing how much damage his death had caused the sniper.

“I just got home from hospital. Yesterday would have been our two year wedding anniversary. And neither one of us would have done the chocolates or flowers. But there would have been a bottle of scotch. And a new tie for Jim. There would have been a quiet dinner and loud sex. I lost track of what I was doing and I took an entire bottle of sleeping pills. So, they had to pump my stomach. At least that pain is something to distract me from the pain in my heart. I miss him.”  

Most people who had worked for Jim or thought they knew the man, would have stated that he was not emotional. He was cold. Calculating. Logical. Mad even. But no one knew who Jim really was. Only Sebastian did. Jim closed the book and wiped his face with the back of his hand. He loved Sebastian. He never wanted to leave him. However, he was heart broken at the depths of despair that his sniper was suffering through. It was not what he wanted for Sebastian. For the man he loved. Jim twisted the simple silver ring on the fourth finger of his left hand and tried to regain control of his breathing.

Jim opened the book again and continued to read through Sebastian’s struggle to come back to reality.

“Today wasn’t a terrible day. I worked… well…I did the things Jim used to do. I haven’t lifted a gun in months. Fuck…. it’s been almost eighteen months since I fired off a round. And that was at the wall. But today I came home and didn’t feel like trying to climb inside a bottle. Or put a bullet in my brain. I can almost see that it's possible to survive this. That one day, in the far future, I can see that I will be okay. And wouldn’t that be what Jim wanted for me? To survive?”

The following entries continued up until it all came crashing down again. That was six months ago, Jim calculated.

“I haven’t written in this bloody book in ten days. It only took eight for me to reach rock bottom. I am writing this as I am sitting in a hospital once again. Things need to change. I’ve already had a meeting with Mia and Lloyd and things have been put in place. It’s not really important to write them here. But I won’t be getting behind the wheel ever again. I’m just really lucky that I didn’t kill anyone with the car when I wrapped it around the fucking tree. I don’t remember one single bit of the last five days. The last thing I do remember was hearing a song on the radio… something that reminded me of Jim. I was stressed about a meeting with the Russians and I went to the nearest pub. I recall ordering a bottle and then…. nothing until yesterday when I woke up. I’ve got a broken collarbone and I had to have my hip replaced because I shattered it. I’ve been living in my head again and it’s not good. Jim would kill me for almost killing myself.”

He knew that he needed to return the book to Sebastian. There was no way that Sebastian was going to survive without it. But it was the last entry that intrigued him the most. A song. A simple song that was played in a pub had caused that kind of reaction from the former military sniper. He reread the words that Sebastian had written in the book and realized why. They were almost tailor written for them.

Jim pulled out his laptop and after a few quick keystrokes, he found the rest of the words. He downloaded the song put his ear buds into his ears. He placed the track on repeat and closed his eyes. He allowed the deep and powerful voice of the English angel to wash over his senses.

“When will I see you again?” she sang. What a wonderful question. Would he ever be able to see his beloved Tiger again? Would it be good for either of them?

“You left with no goodbye, not a single word was said.” How true. Jim left their bed that morning, his sniper sleeping, warm and inviting. He kissed him, but Sebastian didn’t know it. He was deep into a post sex haze that pulled him into dreams and nothing could wake him from that.

“No final kiss to seal any sins, I had no idea the state we were in.” Jim sighed. He never wanted to leave Sebastian with any doubt of Jim’s love for him. He married him. He took him to his bed. He loved him the best he knew how. But the game, the challenge of beating Sherlock Holmes was too great. It became Jim’s all consuming fire and it burned him. It burned his own heart out and burned his Sebastian too. And that was not acceptable.

But it was the next set of lines, delivered with heart and passion that caused Jim’s breath to catch.

“ I know I have a fickle heart and a bitterness, and a wandering eye and a heaviness in my head. But don’t you remember? Don’t you remember me? The reason you loved me before? Baby, please remember me once more.”

Jim never took much stock into the old ideas of the occult and magic. He thought that the ten a penny mediums and psychics that littered the store fronts of Dublin were con artists and petty thieves. Jim did not believe in mind reading or fate. But he began to wonder if his reticence to believe in anything occult might be premature. Because surely, the young woman who had written this song, was either capable of some form of witchcraft or she was a voyeur.  Jim turned the book over in his hands, feeling the soft skin under his fingers. Its warmth reminded him that there was sunshine and heat in the cold,  dark world that he had been inhabiting for the last three years. He made a snap decision and turned on the light next to the bed. Taking out his favorite pen, the fountain pen that Sebastian had given him along with the journal, he found the next blank page and wrote in his own spidery hand.

“I know I have a fickle heart and a bitterness, and a wandering eye and a heaviness in my head. But don’t you remember? Don’t you remember me? The reason you loved me before? Baby, please remember me once more.”

Jim closed the book with a snap and tied it shut with the fine leather straps that acted as both a bookmark and a closure. He tucked his pen into the knot and lay it aside on the bed. He picked up his mobile phone that was laying near by and typed out a text with a simple set of instructions he knew would be followed to the letter. He stood up from the bed and straightened his slightly rumpled suit with his small hands. He ran the same hand across the crown of his head and flattened his hair. Shrugging on his over coat, he placed his phone into his pocket and pulled on his leather gloves before giving the black book sitting on the bed one last longing look. He closed the door to the anonymous hotel room behind him and disappeared from view.

 

Sebastian stalked around the flat, a ghost of the man he had been just days earlier. For all the progress he had made with his grief, it all came crashing back down on him again. Lloyd’s body was gone and the stain of brown that had accompanied his corpse on the carpet had been scrubbed away. Everything in the flat was as it had been the day Jim left, again. The staff that Sebastian paid so well had righted everything in the bedroom once again as Sebastian slipped back into his own depression.

Concerned that something akin to drowning in his own sorrow would happen to him again, he had redundancies in his operations. They could survive for weeks without his input and he was glad for it. He wrapped his arms around his chest and stared out ceiling windows that overlooked the well tended park across from the building he was currently hiding in. The staff knew that in these black moods, Sebastian was best served by only a watchful eye, a caring hand of leaving things for him to eat and drink around the flat, but never to be seen or interacted with.  He wore oversized and faded track pants with a tee shirt he had from his days in the army. His already several days old beard had grown in further and his hair was shaggy at best. He tried to keep up his own care, eating when he saw something, never really tasting the food. He drank from water bottles and glasses of sports drinks that seemed to appear at his side often. He tried to remember to take his medication regularly, however, his sense of time was off and he would just find that hours had vanished without his knowledge.

Sebastian found that his listless ennui was interrupted by a small knock at the door to the sitting room from the kitchen. He turned to see what was disturbing his brooding. His regular office secretary stood in the door frame. She was a beautiful woman, deadly with a knife and hand to hand combat. More than used to both the whims of Sebastian and Jim, she ran the office with an iron fist and a fuck ton of common sense. Which is why, when Sebastian finally registered Mia’s presence in the room, his eyes narrowed and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Something major must have happened for her to show up here, now.

“What?” he growled at her. To her defense, Sebastian mused, she didn’t flinch or blink. She looked at him with an almost bored expression.

“This just arrived for you. It was hand delivered, and the delivery person was just that. A delivery service.” Sebastian shifted gaze to Mia’s hand and noted the brown paper package she was holding. He looked back up to her face. “It came in an express package, addressed to me directly. I opened it and this was inside of it, along with a note. Typed. No fingerprints. The note said that I needed to hand deliver this to you, today. If not, I would not survive walking out this door.” Sebastian walked across the room and took the package from Mia’s hands. It was lightweight and shaped like a book under it’s brown wrapping. He looked back at her and she nodded her head as he unwrapped the brown paper. His hands felt the warm leather of the book before his eyes saw it. His heart stuttered for a moment before he reached out for the wall to hold himself up.

“Where? Who?” he asked. Mia carefully repeated all the details that she had told him, not really having anything to add. He turned on his heel and sunk into the sofa, effectively dismissing her.

Sebastian turned the book over in his hands. His vision was blurry and he realized his eyes were filled with tears of relief. He slowly ran his hands over the cover again and shook his head at his own foolishness. That he put so much stock into a single book. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and took a deep breath. He slowly undid the ties and noticed there was something twisted inside of them. He plucked the pen out and stared at it for a moment. His fingers dropped the book in his lap and he twisted the pen between his large fingers. It was a fine writing instrument. The cap was topped with a dark black gemstone and the clip was ended with a small silver magpie. He recognized it right away and knew that it was Jim’s pen. But that was impossible. He had the pen specially made for Jim, but hadn’t been able to find the pen anywhere in the flat or the office. He assumed that Jim had either lost it or thrown it away at some point in his Red Bull fueled, crazed obsession with Sherlock.

Sebastian put the pen down on the arm of his chair and continued to open the book. He still hadn’t been able to remember much about his fall from three nights previous. He found his last entry and noted the song lyrics. The entire episode came crashing back to him and he held his breath for a moment. Sebastian picked up the pen and turned the page. His eyes focused on the creamy ivory paper. On the next page that should have been blank, were words. Words written in a familiar spidery scrawl. Words that should not exist. It was handwriting that Sebastian hadn’t seen in three years and should by all rights never see again.

Sebastian pulled the book closer and ran his fingers over the words. “I know I have a fickle heart and a bitterness and a wandering eye and a heaviness in my head. But don’t you remember? Don’t you remember? The reason you you loved me before. Baby, please remember me once more.”

Sebastian flipped the page back and realized that it was the next lines in the song that he had scratched out on his last entry. The song that had innocently sent him into a spiral downward. But there was no way Jim’s hand writing should be there.

Sebastian pulled out his phone and pulled up the song that he knew was on his playlist. He closed his eyes as he let the words wash over him. He let his thoughts run away with each and every note that swelled up and back again. For the first time in a long time, he let his mind wander to the one place he hated to let it go. The most dangerous place for his thoughts to go. To the day. To the rooftop in central London. To the moment that the one person he loved more than anyone, to the moment when his husband took his own life, in order to win a stupid game with a posh public school twit.

 

Sebastian had hated the game with Sherlock from the beginning. He knew Jim well enough to know that it would not end well. He wasn’t concerned for the deaths of innocent bystanders. His years in military service had taught him that collateral damage was the one thing that couldn’t be prevented, so there was no reason to feel anything about them. But Sebastian had warned and railed against the game. He didn’t want to see Jim hurt or let Jim hurt him. Yet for all the nights they spent yelling and screaming at each other, there was nothing he could do to persuade Jim from giving up his pursuit of the consulting detective.

He thought back to the last night he and Jim had spent together. Jim had been playing with Kitty Reilly and had been spending several days and nights at her flat, in order to keep up the story. To be Richard Brook. To take Sherlock down. He hadn’t seen Jim in almost a week and his gut was clenched with worry and hate for the Holmes family when Jim finally walked into the flat around the early hours of the morning. Sebastian had been drinking, and was sitting in the lounge, the room dark and the scent of his whiskey punctuated the air. Jim stood in the doorway, his Richard Brook persona erased from his face, but still wearing his clothes. The faded jeans and oversized shirt that Sebastian recognized as his own. Sebastian sniffed at Jim as he stared down at his husband. He reeked of her overly flowery perfume and something inside of Sebastian snapped.

“Did you fuck her?” he bit out at Jim.

“Sebby. Really?” Jim drawled.

“Did you?” Sebastian asked again, his patience wearing thinner.

“Does it matter?” Jim sighed, crossing the room towards his husband and taking the glass out of his hand. He swallowed the amber liquid in one mouthful and turned to pour them more.

“Yes.” Sebastian hissed. “Yes it fucking does matter.”

“Why? Why should any of this matter to you?” Jim screamed, turning around to face the man before him.

“For fuck’s sake, Jim. You tell me why it should matter.”

“Oh. Oh. The poor husband. The poor damaged man. Feeling left out, are we?” Jim laughed.

It only took seconds, seconds before either man realized what had happened. Jim’s hand reached his jaw, his mouth a perfect “o” of shock and Sebastian’s knuckles stung. He had punched Jim. Not nearly as hard as he could. Sebastian’s hand could have been registered as deadly weapons, but he was gentle with Jim. Always so gentle.

“Fuck.” Sebastian growled and he stalked out of the room. Jim took in a deep breath and let it out before slamming back the drink he had poured and following his husband out of the room.

Jim found Sebastian sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry. That was a low blow.” Jim said from the doorway.

“Yes.” Sebastian answered, his voice strained and his word clipped. Jim smiled a bit. He loved when Sebastian was angry enough and he lost all the carefully cultivated persona he had created to hide his public school upbringing. He dropped his more posh and cultured words for his commoner speech.

“I didn’t sleep with her. She’s not my type.”

“She’s breathing. She’s your type.” Sebastian spit back.

“Seb, I didn’t sleep with her. She’s only a pawn in this game.”

“The fucking game.”

“What? You want to do this again?” Jim countered, crossing the room and planting his smaller frame in front of his husband. “We can go all night if you wish.”

“No.” Sebastian sighed. “It’s not worth it.”

“Good.”

“Fuck you. Really just fuck you.”

“I was hoping you would say that.” Jim offered.

“Not in the mood.”

“You rarely are anymore.” Jim whispered. Sebastian looked up and his eyes softened. It was true and it hurt him to see the rejection in Jim’s dark eyes.

“It’s the game. It’s changed you and I hate it."

“I know, but it’s going to be over. Very soon.”

“How soon is that?”

“If everything goes according to my plan…. tomorrow.”

“Really?” Sebastian asked, his voice full of suspicion and hope.

“Yes. Now, please, love, take me to bed. Fuck me. Mark me. Make me yours again.” Jim begged. Sebastian licked his lips automatically. This is why he loved the man. He knew how to do things to him. This was the side of the consulting criminal that only he got to see. Not the act he put on for the staff. Not the Jim Moriarty that flirted with Sherlock or the Richard Brook that played with Kitty Reilly. Not the mastermind who played with Mycroft or the sadistic little man who toyed with Irene Adler. But the man who was utterly in love with an ex-army sniper.

Sebastian stood up from the bed and closed the space between the two of them. Jim smiled up at his husband and Sebastian shook his head as he ducked his eyes.

“I really should just sleep in the guest room tonight.”

“Yes. That would be punishment enough for me. But you and I both know that’s not going to happen.”

“Bastard.”

“But you love me.”

“God help me, but I do.” Sebastian said. It was the last thing that came out of his mouth before his lips were crashing against Jim’s, their kiss turning into a power play. Tongues lapping at each other, teeth clashing. Jim’s hand snaked up to grab the back of Sebastian’s neck and Sebastian wrapped his hands around Jim’s hips pulling him closer. Both of them hard, they rutted against each other for a moment as they continued to nip and kiss each other while standing.

Jim was the first to pull away for air, his pupils blown wide with desire and Sebastian moved them towards the bed, pulling off Jim’s shirt and undoing his jeans as they moved. Jim ran his hands along the flat defined plains of Sebastian’s chest,  while Sebastian moved his head to attack Jim’s neck and collarbone with his mouth.

Jim arched his head back and moaned with the electric spark that Sebastian’s ministrations sent through him. Sebastian smiled against Jim’s skin and lay him back on the bed. He pulled off his own tee shirt and tossed it somewhere into the room. He felt Jim’s fine fingers on the skin of his abdomen and he shivered slightly at the light touch.

A moment later, they were both naked, hard and wanting. Wanting to make it last and to satisfy both their need, Sebastian reached to the bedside table to grab the lube. He brought it up between them and prepared to give Jim’s fingers a good coating so that Jim could begin to prepare Sebastian. Jim’s fingers curled around his wrist, stopping his movement.

“No.”

“What?”

“I want you to fuck me.” Jim said softly. Sebastian stilled his breathing for a moment as he took in and processed what Jim had offered. Neither of them were possesive of who fucked whom, but it was often Jim who became the one entering Sebastian. It was the nights that Jim needed to be possessed, to forget everything that Sebastian found himself in Jim. But a small voice in the back of Sebastian’s mind gave him pause. This was something more. It was a way of Jim giving back to his husband. A way of Jim opening himself up to his lover for his sins. To beg for forgiveness that he would never verbally ask for. Sebastian closed his eyes and moaned as he moved to kiss Jim’s lips.

Sebastian hovered over Jim, the foreplay nearly over and Jim prepared to receive Sebastian. He looked into the dark, haunted eyes of the man under him and pressed the tip of his hard cock against the ring of muscle.

“Are you sure?” he asked, giving Jim the moment he knew he needed.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” Jim answered, closing his eyes and giving Sebastian his whole trust. Sebastian didn’t hesitate a moment more, breaching Jim and groaning in pleasure as Jim tightened against him. He allowed a moment before continuing his thrust upwards and Jim bit his lip in both pleasure and pain.

“God.” Sebastian sighed and he leaned into kiss Jim. Jim met his lips with a tender kiss and thrust his own hips upwards. Sebastian felt the hot stiffness of Jim’s own erection against his belly and he began to move, creating both friction for himself, but for Jim as well.

Sebastian started off slow and languidly as he pulled his hips back and forth from Jim. It was exquisite pleasure, torture to keep the pace slow. Jim met each of his strokes with his own bucking and the stride was instantly quickened as both men allowed their baser instincts to take over.

The room was silent excepting their groans and grunts of pleasure, each lost in their own sensation. Teeth and lips skimmed over whatever body part they could reach and Jim’s orgasm ripped him apart with a fire. He yelled out Sebastian’s name and Sebastian lost what little control he had over his own passion. He spilled into Jim and struggled with holding the majority of his weight off of the man undone underneath him. Several heartbeats later, Jim was freed from Sebastian’s presence as he rolled onto his back, taking up the far side of the bed. Jim slowly climbed out and walked to the bath, to clean himself up. He felt the heat of Sebastian dripping down his thigh and pulled his lips into his teeth as he closed his eyes and thought about the trust that his husband had in him. He returned to the bed and startled Sebastian with a warm flannel to clean off his belly and the seed that Jim had painted him with.

“Thanks.” Sebastian said, his voice gravelly with hormonal haze and exhaustion. Jim said nothing, but curled up against his husband.

Sebastian’s arms curled around Jim automatically and he kissed the top of his head. He sighed contentedly and began to drift off to sleep. Jim felt the shift in Sebastian as his body relaxed the last few yards into sleep and he kissed Sebastian’s cheek as he lay his hand over his heart.

“I love you.” he whispered.

“I know.” Sebastian answered, startling Jim who thought he was asleep. Sebastian smiled and Jim smacked his chest a bit before closing his own eyes for a few hours of sleep. Sebastian awoke to an empty bed and an even more empty flat.

Hours later, he was a widower.

Sebastian ran the entire rest of the last day of Jim’s life over in his head again and he thought about all the events leading up to the meeting on the roof. All the things that Jim told him, all the things he hadn’t said. All the inner workings of Jim’s mind and his eyes opened wide. His mouth dropped a bit and he found that his tongue had gone dry. His melancholy over being the surviving spouse instantly evaporated and was suddenly replaced by anger. This shift caused his stomach to clench and rebel against him. He rushed to the toilet and expelled the few contents of his stomach. He slumped against the cold tile as he raised a shaking hand to his mouth.

“Son of fucking bitch.” he breathed out. He wiped his mouth with his hand and rose up from the floor. He splashed his face with cold water and rinsed out the bitter taste from his mouth.  Looking up into the mirror for the first time in… he had no idea… he stared hard at the man he saw there. Thinner, dark purple circles under his eyes, he looked like a zombie. And that’s what he had been for three years. A zombie. But it was over now.

A year earlier, Sherlock suddenly showed up. He had come back from the dead. He had heard through sources that he had planned the whole thing to best Jim at his own game. Sebastian decided that it was time to see if what his brain was now telling him was true. He found his book again and pulled the cap off of the pen. He decided that he was going to play the game.

He let the ink flow over the clean page, writing out the words that followed the ones in Jim’s own hand. “When was the last time you thought of me? Or have you completely erased me from your memory? I often think about where I went wrong, the more I do, the less I know. But I know I have a fickle heart and a bitterness and a wandering and a heaviness in my head. But don’t you remember? Don’t you remember? The reason you loved me before? Baby, please remember me once more.”

Sebastian closed the book and put the pen back inside the strapping before carrying it his desk and leaving it there. He headed to the shower to clean up and dress before calling a late meeting of his best minds and most trusted personal.

Three hours later, after listening to each of his four most trusted employees, he had a better idea of things in his own head. He should have seen the clues, he berated himself for being stuck in his own grief and depression to have missed them all. He sent them each out with an assignment before heading down to the pub, once again with his book in his hand.

His previous mask of sadness and steely eyed loss was replaced with anger and hatred. However, unless you knew the man or had seen the previous emotional state, he only looked like a man with a mission. He sat down at the polished wooden counter and ordered a whiskey, neat. He placed the book next to him on the bar top, knowing that it would be gone in a few hours. He had chosen his regular bar because he had a feeling that it was being watched and he hoped that messages that he was having circulated through his own underground network would be successful. He had also left instructions that the book was to be followed and not touched by any of his staff. If it remained there in the morning he knew that the lovely girl with the ample breasts who opened the pub in the morning would recognize it and return it to its owner.

Sebastian put a few pound notes on the bar after he downed his drink and left with a smile to the bartender. He shoved his hands in his pockets and pulled out a cigarette and his lighter. He walked as he smoked, allowing the hot smoke to fill his lungs and the regular rhythm of the motion to sooth his razor sharp nerves. He let his feet carry him across the London streets, the destination unknown until he realized he had arrived. Looking up, he saw the grey building looming in front of him. He entered the doors and climbed up the stairs until there was nothing more in front of him to climb. He pushed open the door and felt the cool rush of the night air hit his face. He hadn’t returned to the fated spot for three years, but something drew him back.

Sitting on the edge of the roof, he turned his back to the roof and looked out into the night sky. The stars were hard to see in the bright London sky. The perpetual artificial day that the millions of electric lights brought to the city made it hard for him to see the sky properly. He looked out into the city, trying to sort through all the new emotions running through his head and heart. He felt alive for the first time in a while and he wasn’t sure if that was because of the slim hope he now clung to or because of the anger he felt burning in his veins.

Sebastian’s mobile sounded out a text chime in his pocket after he had realized he had been sitting on the rooftop for the better part of five hours. He pulled out the phone and rose from his perch, stretching out his protesting and seized muscles as he read the message.

“Same as last time. Book gone. No CCTV. Just there one minute and gone the next. Lookout saw only a shadow. Gone when tried to pursue. Instructions?”

Sebastian smiled as he typed out his reply. “None. Sleep for now. I’m heading back to the flat. I will be in the office around noon. We need to tie up every open project. I’m going away for a while.”

“Yes sir.” came the reply.

Sebastian walked back to his flat and lay back on his bed. His hand sought out the space that had been empty for years and he ran his fingers over the smooth coolness of the duvet.

“Fucking bastard.” he spit out. He found that his anger had been rising steadily since he had received the text message. He hoped that he could move beyond the anger and begin to figure out what his husband had been doing for the last three years and why he hadn’t come back.

Sebastian felt the shift in his emotions as soon as the last thought came over him. He suddenly felt a crippling fear. That Jim had left him. That Jim had moved on with his life and never really loved Sebastian. That their entire relationship was a game to Jim and that he wanted nothing more to do with him.

Sebastian rolled onto his side, having a hard time trying to control his breathing. He followed his train of thought, wondering what garden path to hell this was. If Jim had indeed left him for a better or different life, why was he suddenly toying with Sebastian? Why was he watching him? He knew that he was being watched. Picking up the book from the pavement and again from the bar proved that. But why now? Why after three years?

Sherlock fucking Holmes. That’s why. Because the bastard had gone and gotten himself shot and was messing around with CAM. Sebastian shook his head and tried to close his eyes. He was tired and needed to be at his best that afternoon. Because in a week, he was gone. He had made up his mind to leave London and remove himself to someplace warmer and without memories of Jim. Someplace he could start over again.

 

Jim’s ears were burning with the mention of his name from every channel he could monitor. London’s underbelly was asking all the right questions. Finally. He let most of it become background noise to his own work, but one comment made it’s way to the for front. Sebastian Moran’s missing book had returned to his hands and now he was sitting at his favorite pub, book in hand. But something had changed in the broken man. He had a look of absolute determination about him.

For a brief and fleeting instant, Jim wondered if Sebastian had finally succumbed to his own demons and thought the message that Jim had sent to him was nothing more than his own twisted imagination telling him it was time to take his life. That Sebastian was finally so broken he had no where left to fall.

Jim shook his head to erase the thought as if it was as easy to erase as a the children’s toy with the knobs and red case. He never thought that Sebastian would fall that far.

Jim typed on the keys of his laptop, finding Sebastian with ease. He watched the man enter the pub on the various cameras that he was able to hack with the ease of a child and saw the difference for himself. A grin fell across his face. He knew the man on the screen in front of him. It was his tiger. The man he loved returning from a three year slumber. Jim’s fear of Sebastian’s suicide were gone and he knew that Sebastian had figured out the basics. That he was alive. He studied his husband as he pushed the journal just out of reach and left the bar without another word being spoken. He watched as Sebastian walked through the London streets, charting a path that he wasn’t entirely sure was the best path to take.

Jim sat staring at the screen until he finally checked the time on his watch. The pub was now closed and at last glance, the book still lay on the countertop. He knew that Sebastian had left it for him. He closed his laptop and made his way on foot to the pub.

Circumventing the CCTV once again, he kept to the shadows and was in and out before the man that Sebastian had entrusted to watch the bar had even known he was there. Jim returned to his bolt hole, the book in his hand and his phone tuned to watching Sebastian just sitting on the edge of the roof, staring out into the night sky.

Jim turned to the page where he had entered the next line of the song with his own hand and ran his fingers over the slightly tear stained page. His heart sank a bit at Sebastian’s despair.  He hated what he had done to him and hated what still had to come. He would have loved nothing more than to leave everything behind and go somewhere with him, but it wasn’t possible. There was still so much to finish. So much work left undone before he could rest.

Jim flipped the page and looked at Sebastian’s next entry. Written in the public school script that Sebastian had never quite gotten out of the habit of using, he read the words that were inscribed on the page.

Jim’s heart broke again. The millions of pieces that were now in his chest caused him pain and he wondered if Sebastian could ever forgive him for what he had done. He quickly scrawled out his own message and decided to return the book to its last known location before day break.

Jim settled onto the sofa in the small lounge of the bolt hole he was using. He had only been back in London for a week. His three years away were marked across his mind and body. He had read some of the speculation on where Sherlock Holmes had been during his own two years playing at dead and Jim had only wished that his own time away could have been that simple. To just have a mission to complete and move onto the next step.

But Jim mused to himself that he had a mission in his time away. To live. To get through the next day and make his way back to the top. His own mistakes had nearly cost him his life and he struggled each day with staying alive while he recovered from the bullet he ate at the climax of his tete e tete with Sherlock on the hospital roof that fine day.

Jim was not perfect. He tried to be and he tried to see every angle of every circumstance before acting on anything. But Sebastian had been right. The bloody army sniper had been right about his obsession with everything Holmes. He didn’t see that his own mind was failing him and the miscalculation caused him to spend more time recovering from what should have been a blinding headache that he planned.

But Jim was nothing if not a planner. He had planned for everything. Including getting shot by Sherlock’s pet doctor. The man wasn’t in the same league as his own Tiger, but he was a damn good shot. He had plans in place to take him somewhere to recover. He had a team of doctors and a near perfect hospital all set up. He just hoped that he hadn’t needed it.

Yet that was what happened to the best laid plans of mice and men. Jim made a mistake. Nearly two and a half years after the meeting on the rooftop, Jim pulled on his Westwood suit for the first time. He felt more like himself then he had in a long time, but it still took another full six months to rebuild his network from where he was and to make all the arrangements to come back to London.

He had thought about contacting Sebastian so many times over the last year and a half. Once he started to look more like himself again and was able to write without his words shaking off the page. But he hoped, he had prayed that Sebastian had moved on. That he was happy. For Sebastian’s happiness meant more to him than anything else.

Jim picked up the book and slipped out of his flat just hours before the sun rose over London, hoping that he would see Sebastian’s smiling face again. There was just one last thing to do.

Sebastian awoke to the sound of his mobile chiming near his head. He had finally fallen into a restless sleep. He scrubbed his tired face with his hand as he reached for his text message. He read the words and blinked a few times before reading them again. He sat up from the bed and realized he had fallen asleep with his clothes on and was grateful for it. He shoved his feet into his black boots and grabbed a jacket from the back of a chair as he raced downstairs to the office.

Sebastian opened the door and was met with an annoyed glance of his secretary. She sighed and pointed towards his office.

“It’s on the desk.” she said, sounding rather bothered by the whole affair.

“Was it returned or had it never left?” he asked.

“Returned.” Sebastian never heard if she said anything more.  He raced into his office and slammed the door shut before he grabbed the book and tore it open. He began looking for more evidence that the Irish bastard was still alive.

A single additional entry was made. Again the blasted song that had started the whole problem in the first place.

“Gave you the space so you could breathe, I kept my distance so you would be free. And I hoped you would find the missing piece that would bring you back to me. Why don’t you remember? Don’t you remember? The reason you loved me before. Baby please remember me once more.” Sebastian growled as he threw the book across the room. He yelled for Mia and threw himself into work for the next three days. The simple black journal lay where it had fallen on the other side of the room.

Night had fallen and Sebastian was finally satisfied that he could leave.  All the last things he wanted to do and accomplished had been finished. He picked up his laptop and booked himself a one way ticket to New York to start. He wanted to spend a few days more in a city. A city where he could be anonymous and still get all of the equipment and items that he needed before retreating off grid for the rest of his life. It was time to leave this life behind and move on.

He picked up the book from the floor and with one last flourish he wrote his final entry.

 

Jim hit the send button from his laptop and waited. Before he could count to thirty, his face filled every television screen in England, repeating the same phrase. Did you miss me? Over and over again. He smiled at his own genius.

But there was one thing missing. His husband at his side.

Sebastian had left England and everything behind. He had taken nothing with him, not even one of his many passports that he and Jim had collected over the years. Jim mused that he had to have had another one made, but none of the staff or employees knew what had happened to him. He just slipped away in the night. The night before Jim had walked back into the flat and into the office, giving Mia one hell of a scare before she slipped right back into her roll with him. As if the last three years had never happened.

Jim stood in the doorway to Sebastian’s office, looking over the room. He had stood there for an hour trying to puzzle out where his husband had gone. The only clue was the black journal left in the center of his desk. Jim finally opened it, to read the last entry that Sebastian had left for him.

“When will I see you again?”

 

Sebastian walked up to the Tiki hut that served as a local bar and slid onto a barstool. He had been there for three months and had become a bit of a fixture at the counter. The bartender brought him a cold beer in a brown bottle and Sebastian nodded his thanks at him. He took a long pull off of the bottle and watched the various people around the room as he sipped his drink. The bar had a small sound system, where it piped in satellite music for the patrons to enjoy while basking in the Caribbean sun. Most of the time, it played whatever the trendy pop music of the day was.

Sebastian tuned out the banter around the small tables that were settled in the sand and let his thoughts drift in and out. He felt the heat of the body slide up next to him on the barstool before he registered the young woman.

“Hello.” she said. Great. Sebastian thought. American and Southern.

“Hi.” he said back, being nothing more than to be polite. He lifted the amber bottle to his lips again.

“Vacation?” she asked, sipping at her. overly sweet fruity drink.

“Something like that.” he answered. His voice was clipped and short. He was trying to shut her down before she got started. The only problem was that with fruity drinks laced with high volumes of rum in this scorching heat went to the girls' heads very quickly. He shook his own head as she shifted on the barstool to face him more. He gave her a quick glance out of the side of his eye. She was young and pretty.

The music stopped for a minute before a new song came out of the speakers. Sebastian’s hand froze on the bottle. The girl saw it as an opportunity to speak again, just as Adele’s melodic voice began to sing the first words of the song.

“When will I see you again?” Adele’s voice sang.

“So…” the young woman started. Sebastian lifted his left hand at her and she stopped before the next syllable left her lips.

“Please, love. Just stop. Married. Prefer to be alone. Besides, you aren’t my type.”

“And what is your type?” she asked, her body language becoming closed off. Sebastian sighed as Adele sang on. The one song he never wanted to hear again.

Sebastian opened his mouth to answer when someone beat him to the punch. His eyes closed at the Irish lilt and he wondered if he was only imagining it.

“Mine.” the voice said from behind him. Sebastian watched the woman look up and down behind him beforw getting up from the stool.

“Fucking faggot.” she spat as she walked away.

“Hello Tiger.”

“Boss.” Sebastian offered as he drained away the rest of his beer. He motioned for a whiskey. Beer was not going to be enough for this conversation. “Took you long enough.”

Jim’s laugh filled his ears and Sebastian had to steal his resolve not to turn and… what? he asked himself. Punch him or kiss him. Jim smirked at Sebastian. Sebastian turned towards the man sitting on the stool next to him.

“Trying to decide between punching me or kissing me, right?”

“Something like that.” Sebastian murmured. He drained his glass in one swallow and motioned for another. “Why are you here?”

“You asked me a question. I’m just replying.” Jim said.

Sebastian chuckled a little and drained the second glass as fast as the first. He slammed the glass on the bar top and threw a few bills down as he got up from his seat and walked away.

“Come on, Tiger. Don’t be like that.” He heard Jim call after him.

Sebastian stopped in his tracks a few feet away from the bar and turned. Jim was behind him. “Don’t be like what exactly?” Sebastian seethed. “Upset? Confused? Bloody pissed off?” He closed the distance between them and pointed a finger in Jim’s direction. “You don’t get to decide here Jim. You left me, remember? For three years….” Sebastian’s voice hitched and betrayed his anger. “Three years I thought you were dead. I thought you didn’t want me. So… I did the same. I left.”

Jim’s face dropped the mask he had been wearing and Sebastian saw the man he had fallen in love with. He saw his Jim again. His heart stopped in his chest and his hands dropped to his sides. Jim’s eyes grew wide and he brought his hand up as if he was going to touch Sebastian. He stopped in mid movement and it hung in the air between them.

“May I have a chance to explain?” Jim asked, his voice different then Sebastian was used to. It was soft and pleading. Sebastian shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Can we walk a bit?” Sebastian nodded, not trusting his voice to not further betray his emotions.

Jim followed Sebastian down towards the surf and they walked near each other, close enough that they could easily grab the other’s hand, but Sebastian’s hands remain clenched in his pockets and Jim’s were hanging loosely at his sides.

“When I was a child, I was tested as a genius, but I’m not perfect. It’s something that I thought I was. Perfect. And infallible. But in my vanity to beat…. him.” Jim said waving his hand in the air “I miscalculated. It was never supposed to go like it did.”

“You had a plan.” Sebastian said.

“I did. I had calculated using a blank in the gun with a blood pack would fool Sherlock enough to cause his dead, but as you know that didn’t work out that well either.” Jim mused. "What I didn’t calculate was what happens when you put a gun with a blank into your mouth and pull the trigger.” Jim huffed. Sebastian smiled at him. It was just very like Jim to see him upset about the idea that something he wanted to do could potentially kill him. “It wasn’t pretty, I’ll tell you that.”

“And?” Sebastian said after they walked for a bit longer, the silence stretching between them.

“I’m different.” Jim said quietly. “I’m not the same man who walked out of our bed three years ago.”

“Really?” Sebastian huffed. “And in that three years…. what? You decided that I wasn’t worth contacting, even once?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” Sebastian spit. Jim stopped his motion with a hand on his arm. Sebastian turned to Jim. Jim opened his mouth and Sebastian looked in. He gasped a little at what he had seen.

“First year was horribly painful. Sixteen different surgeries. All reconstructive to make me beautiful again.” Jim said, starting to walk once again. Sebastian stood for a moment and fell into step with Jim.

“And the last two?”

“The second year…. that was harder. I would take the pain all over again to have not had to go through that one year. It was really closer to eighteen months. I had to learn to do everything over again. The bullet lodged in my brain. It caused damage. I couldn’t do anything.”

“Jim.” Sebastian said. Jim waved his hand in the air.

“It’s of no matter now. It’s done. I’m not as strong as I was and like I said before, I’m different. I…. let’s just agree that you weren’t the only one who hit rock bottom a few times.” Sebastian looked at his lover and Jim smiled. “Pills, mostly. Once a kitchen knife, but I’m better now.” Sebastian nodded and they continued walking. “I was planning on coming for you. But I wanted to be whole again before I saw you. You didn’t need an invalid in your life.”

Sebastian was the one who stopped walking and put his hand on Jim’s shoulder. Jim didn’t turn, he just looked out into the blue ocean as the waves railed against the shore.

“Do you remember our wedding?” Sebastian asked. Jim smiled and nodded. “Do you remember the part about sickness and health? I would have and I still will do anything for you. No matter what. No matter how sick you are. You never have been a burden to me. A pain in the ass…. yes. That you are.”

Jim chuckled a little.

“But why did you wait so long? Six months?”

“I wasn’t near you. It took me some time to secure documents to come back to England. To make the arrangements. The night that you lost your book… the journal…. I had only been back about a week.”

“And you hadn’t come to me yet?” Sebastian asked, his anger peaking again.

“I was…. I needed….” Jim exhaled and turned towards his husband. “I was watching you. I wanted to make sure that I was still needed… still wanted in your life. I had hoped you would have moved on. But also I hoped you hadn’t too.”

“Jim, I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time. How could I have ever moved on?” Sebastian asked.

“So.” Jim said, shrugging again.

“So.” Sebastian echoed. He sighed as he pulled Jim’s shoulder where his hand still rested, towards him. Jim’s steps were clumsy and Sebastian saw the pink blush of embarrassment cross his face. He looked down at his husband and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“Why did you take three months to get here?” Sebastian asked.

“Darling…” Jim chuckled. “You learned how to hide from the best. It took me six weeks to find you. Plus I had a few loose ends to tie up before I could come. I almost didn’t.” Jim admitted.

“What made you change your mind?” Sebastian asked as he felt Jim’s slender arms wrap around his waist and his hand settle at the small of his back. He pulled tight against Jim’s shoulders and Jim’s head settled into Sebastian’s neck. He breathed deeply the scent that Jim had missed for three years.

“Your last entry in the journal.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Sebastian shifted and kissed the top of Jim’s head. His lips felt as if they had found their home and he smiled as he let his lips rest there.

“I missed you.” Sebastian whispered. “But if you ever fucking leave me again…”

“I know.” Jim chuckled. He tilted his head up and his dark eyes met Sebastian’s light ones. “We are going to be the death of each other, aren’t we?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Sebastian answered. He closed the distance between them, pressing his sun bleached lips against Jim’s for the first time in years. Jim let the electric jolt of the kiss settle over him before he began to kiss Sebastian back. Sebastian tasted of whiskey, beer and love. Jim moved closer to Sebastian smiled as he felt the familiar tug of Jim’s teeth on his bottom lip.

Jim and Sebastian finally broke apart, the warm water of the rising ocean tide reaching their feet and shocking them both.

“Home?” Sebastian asked, grabbing Jim’s hand in his own. His thumb traced the line of the platinum band that he had placed on Jim’s hand four and a half years earlier and Jim squeezed Sebastian’s hand in response.

“But of course.” he answered, his sing song voice causing Sebastian to let out a rough laugh before pulling him into another kiss.

 

Sebastian let out his breath and squeezed his right hand in a pulling motion. He felt the slight recoil of the rifle on his shoulder and saw the target fall in his scope. He took in a breath and began to disassemble his equipment quickly as he could. No sense in hanging around the crime scene longer than he needed to.

The earbuds that were in his ears changed songs and he had to laugh out loud. “Fucking paddy bastard.” Sebastian said to no one as he began to descend the fire escape and into the shadows. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number that a year earlier he thought he would never dial again.

“Is it done?” the voice on the other end asked in a bored way.

“Yes and you’ve been hacking my playlists again.” Sebastian said with a smile in his voice. He heard Jim excuse himself from the meeting he was in and walk to a different location in order to talk more freely.

“Well, if you had better taste in music, I wouldn’t have to add to your playlists.” Jim smirked. Sebastian chuckled and threw his bag into the back of his black car. He turned over the engine and pulled out into traffic.

“Says the man who thinks the Bee Gees are classic.” Sebastian said. “I’ll be home in about half an hour. I need a shower, food, whiskey and a shag. You interested in helping me with any of that?”

“Tiger.” Jim growled.

“Yes?” Sebastian mocked with false innocence in his voice.

“I have to get back to my meeting. I’ll be there in an hour. Order me something good to eat.”

“How about me?” Sebastian offered and he heard Jim suck in breath.

“I swear, if I go back into this meeting with a hard on, I’ll….”

“What? Fuck me? That’s what I’m trying for.” Sebastian cooed. He drove a little faster, feeling his own jeans tighten at the thought of taking Jim to bed.

“Twenty minutes.” Jim answered before he hung up. Sebastian laughed and continued to weave in and out of traffic.

Sebastian thought about the man he was just speaking to. He had indeed changed. He wasn’t the same since the roof. He was softer around Sebastian. He talked more, shared more and was more tender over all. Sebastian noted that he still put on the act when he was around clients, but when he wasn’t…. Jim was more. He had just taken Sebastian’s call, while he was in the middle of a meeting. And stepped out of the room to talk to him. The old Jim would have ignored the call or berated and belittled him over the line in front of the clients, just to show he had the upper hand.

Sebastian mused it was the fear of losing each other again that had a fair amount of the change in Jim. Even if the man didn’t know it.

Sebastian stopped at the traffic light and flicked through his phone while he waited. He plugged the phone into the high end stereo system in his car and turned the volume up to an obscene level. He thanked the gods that he heard this song one random night in a pub. This one song that brought his husband back to him.

Jim entered the flat through the back door that lead up from the garage directly. He dropped his over coat on the peg near the door and pulled off his gloves. He was loosening his tie and rolling his neck from the semi- permanent stiffness that was there when he entered the kitchen. Sebastian was unpacking a bag of take away Indian he had picked up on his way home. Jim stopped in the doorway and smiled as he watched the sniper in his domestic routine.

“Hi.” Sebastian said as he placed the last container on the table. “Hungry?”

“For you… always, love. Always.” Jim said. He crossed the room and Sebastian pulled him into his arms before he had a chance to sit down. They kissed each other hello and the kiss turned deeper. Sebastian traced his lips across Jim’s jaw line to his ear and gently took the lobe into his mouth. Jim yelped as Sebastian bit down, harder than would be considered playful.

“Fuck!” Jim yelled as he broke away and touched the spot with his fingers. “What the bloody hell, Seb?”

“Don’t fuck with my playlist.” Sebastian said with a smirk. Jim tossed a fork at his husband who artfully dodged it. His reflexes were still quick and Jim had slowed down a bit with his damage.

“Ungrateful bastard.” Jim said as he sat down at the table.

“Paddy tawt.” Sebastian teased back. Jim smiled and licked his lips a little as Sebastian got him a new fork and returned to the table.

Sebastian watched his husband eat his meal, grinning from time to time as they sat in silence.

“What?” Jim finally huffed at the man across from him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Nothing.” Sebastian insisted. “Can’t I just watch the sexiest man I know eat?”

“No.” Jim said with a smirk.

“Then hurry up. I want to take you to bed.”

“I’m done.” Jim said. Sebastian watched as Jim came around to his chair and he pushed back so that Jim could come nearer. “We both need to shower, Tiger.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
